fine winding tendrils
by SebonzaMitsuki27
Summary: Karin, Toushirou, Momo. Future fic. Quietly, these ghosts are bound to linger on.


fine winding tendrils 

disclaimer: bleach isn't mine.

* * *

This is the dream: he dies by turning into ice, melting into water, the cold liquid remaining on their hands (even as they wake up).

This is the reality: he dies by trying to protect them, their bickering never ending, blinding them—

And so he pays the price.

He takes the fall, because he can't risk them getting hurt unless he can't save them.

It's just a stupid Hollow, but the consequences are much direr than they should have been.

Dying, dying, _dead_.

(It's their fault it turned out this way.)

* * *

Karin remembers crying, but she doesn't remember much after that. Most of the time, she is angry. Her knuckles are often scraped and in pain, but to her, it's just another reminder that she's alive. Clothes rip, hurt flares, and her anger never simmers down. It's always present, even if—even if people don't notice it. (Maybe they do, and don't mention it. Or maybe she's becoming better at concealing her emotions.) She doesn't really know, and doesn't really care. She can't remember the mourning period, and she's resentful of the gaps in her mind, because Kurosaki Karin _hates_ forgetting things, be it insignificant and meaningless or important and symbolic.

Momo remembers everything, but she won't say a thing. From time to time, she finds her old house in Rukongai, the one which they used to live in. New residents live there, but one lone one remains. And she'll sit, drink her tea, and then lie across the floor, just like she used to do, when she was young and her heart unbroken, simply basking in memories that exist with her and their grandmother. Momo tells her, _only_ her; and stays and looks after the house, cleaning and sweeping away the cobwebs that linger only in their minds. Doesn't know how long she spends there, until Obaa-chan tries to semi-attack – push, prod, poke – her into returning back to Seireitei. ("Go on, get moving!") So she gives one last hug, promising to return soon, and tries to smile and mean it.

(It hasn't gotten any easier, but they deal.)

* * *

His death doesn't change anything between them.

They still argue and snipe comments at each other, _only_ towards each other. (No point in involving the uninvolved.) And it's if they're living in the past, because Toushirou used to pacify them, and get them to stop arguing with a glare; except no there's no barrier now and they can't stop this verbal attack because no one distracts them and cools them down.

But before that, there's silence, a cold frost, and a refusal to admit each others presence. Both too immersed with the guilt and unforgiving feelings and too heartbroken because they can't let it go. They might sit side by side and ignore each other, remain in the same room or separate ends of the corridor, but they will not interact. Not vocally, not physically. Pride will not let them give in. They always look away because they can't bear to do anything else.

(It's her fault, but both share the burden of this act. Others may have forgiven them and moved on, but Karin and Momo hasn't.)

Then one day they brush shoulders, hard, daring, accidental; it's an unintended attack, though one doesn't see it that way, and the other can't be bothered to correct her: the unwanted contact earning a remark, a flinch, a slap.

They spiral out of control because they still miss their blue eyed boy, and can't get other it, can't get over themselves.

It's getting to the point of being ridiculous.

(As if it wasn't already.)

* * *

Time passes slowly.

But there are moments in between when Karin wonders what the point of breathing is, her life a train wreck, and she's still lying on the railroads because there's no point of moving any longer.

(She still dreams of him, and of their first meeting, a quip, a raising of eyebrows and a promise about a _zanpakutou_ battle in the near time future. And maybe it wasn't the start of anything, but to Karin, it was. And when she wakes up, her hands are still shaking, unable to forget the cruel reality that's partly her fault in the first place.)

* * *

Time passes too quickly.

Momo tries, dedicating herself to her work, constantly meeting deadlines and picking up the slack. She's worked hard and tries not to let the comments get to her, determined to a new start. Maybe it will never be enough, but at least she's finding a positive outlook instead of wallowing in misery.

(It's the little things that haunt her, all the mistakes she made, and they come back in the form of flesh eating zombies, his name already on her lips, because she loved him, not as a lover, she realizes that now, but she loved him all the same. She wipes away her tears, and fixes a natural smile on her face, and hides away this part of her.)

* * *

"_Kami,_ will you two just _stop_ already?"

* * *

All it takes is a bucket of water. The final straw before everything is completely washed out.

Death relived all over again.

(Blood is thicker than water, but this water is only transparent through disguise, and all the two girls see is red blood on their skin.)

It was only meant to cool them down.

Instead, they make a choked sound, a mixture between mad hysteria, tears and laughter. Sanity collapses and they break once more, their bond to Hitsugaya Toushirou the only plausible thing connecting them. And the next moment, they're clinging onto each other, mourning a _shinigami_ who never loved them the same way they loved him.

Sometimes for things to get better, they have to get worse first.

And when their sobs finally stop, there is silence, and it crushes them all the same.

* * *

They don't say sorry, but there's an understanding between them, even as they pull apart and mumbled words come out garbled and incoherent. Karin shakes her head, and Momo presses a cold hand to her lips, refusing to say a word.

Their grief has given them mutual respect.

And for now, that's enough.

* * *

Sometimes there's acknowledgement: a single nod, trying to catch their eye, or an attempt at a half-hearted conversation, including the other girl in strange ways.

(Progress: it's better than yesterday.)

* * *

Momo finds Karin on the rooftop, and musters up the courage to speak civilized. It's getting easier, but they're still not exactly comfortable with it.

"Can I… join you?"

Karin flicks her a glance, expression unreadable, and Momo thinks this is a mistake, and that she'd better go.

"Do what you want. I'm not forcing you to go, and I'm not forcing you to stay." Karin shrugs, and looks away, heaving a sigh.

But she offers to share her blanket, though she makes a comment that she'd better bring her own next time.

(She doesn't, and the process begins again. Karin reminds and Momo forgets. Neither truly care any way.)

The silence speaks for both of them, and most of the time the two girls are simply waiting.

* * *

"That one's a cat." Karin tries to shape the outline with a gesture, and Momo only tilts her head.

She brought Karin a green scarf, and Karin has finally adjusting in wearing it and the scarf looks good on her, a snug fit.

"Really? I thought… well, I thought it was more like a dog to be honest." Momo scrunches up her nose, and pays no heed to the look that crosses Karin's incredulous face.

"You _must_ have an eyesight problem."

"Only if you do." A slight smile, before they rest there once more. This is their routine, and this banter isn't that bad.

Winter is coming, and it's cold as it always is. But with the winter comes the spring, and through her breath becomes visible these days, Momo's still counting the days until it's Toushirou's birthday.

He isn't here. She knows that and can't really celebrate it with him, but she misses Shirou-chan all the same.

Most days they gaze at the sky and wonder if the constellations would ever take the shape of a dragon.

And these days, though it's becoming a routine, at least there's no more animosity between them.

(It's tolerance, and they're getting there. Towards that odd thing called friendship.)

* * *

"I used to be jealous of you," Momo admits one day, sighing as she flops back onto the roof, Karin already there, moving to make room for their blanket that they sit on. "Because he… changed; wasn't the childhood friend I remembered anymore."

"But you have the memories I don't." Karin leans back, simply taking in the stars and the prickle of winter air. She shuts her eyes and concentrates, trying to think of all the memories that she has of him. Still holding on because she can't remember how to let go.

"So ask." Momo laughs gently, offering a half-lit smile. "It's as simple as that."

(If only everything could be as simple.)

* * *

"The tomboy and the girly girl…" Karin muses, as she eventually lets Momo braid her hair. "… it's not so bad, is it?"

And that's about as much acknowledgement that their friendship is going to get.

"No," Momo grins, finishing her last touches. "It's not bad at all."

* * *

If only he could see them now.

(He'd probably wouldn't care and tell Momo to remind Karin to do her paperwork.)

(But… secretly he'd be pleased.)

* * *

It takes a hundred years until Karin meets Hitsugaya Toushirou's reincarnation.

And at that, he's just a kid.

Sandy brown hair. Deep blue eyes.

(Nearly the same shade, she recalls, with startling clarity, only without the heavy burden on his shoulders. She likes him this way, and tries to memorise it. Innocent and cute and maybe, this is what he might have been when he was younger.)

She doesn't recognize him at first, but then she wasn't looking _for_ him; far more preoccupied with slaying the Hollow and saving the day. True heroes never get credit. Civilians prefer to think up crazy solutions, and for most part, it works. And amuses the _shinigami_ in the vicinity. Giant mammoths coming to life, an escapade of elephants, gnomes stealing all the candy… the unorthodox reasons go on and on. Karin really doesn't like the normal sounding ones that much.

"You've been stalking me." Blunt, he says: these are his first words to her. His face is already fixed in a frown (though she hopes it isn't permanent), his face heating up.

How old is he? _Ten?_

"Oh yeah?" She lifts an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?" Honestly, Karin couldn't care less if a mortal midget can see her. It happens from time to time, and if she's in the mood, she can get them to do her bidding. Like buying food and magazines and in return, she helps them with their homework, and tells them bedside stories. She keeps an eye on them, and they include her in their life, and if it helps pass the time, then so be it.

But all the same, he's an ungrateful brat.

He doesn't particularly seem to care that she's just saved his life. Or maybe he didn't realize about the scary monster that tried to kill him. And other less interesting people. But mainly him.

And he just huffs, eyes automatically rolling.

It's real cute, but it's just one gesture too many for the pieces not to fix the puzzle.

_Hitsugaya Toushirou_, by sheer coincidence alone.

"Hey kid. What's your name?" She asks, restraining herself from frowning and asking too many questions. Her playful mood has gone, and now she's serious. Maybe it shows on her face, because he replies pretty quickly.

"… Ryuu."

_Dragon._

"Huh." She shrugs: there are worse names than that. And it suits him.

"Now you." He raises his chin, determined, and she's left to muse about whether the kid and his previous life has always been old, or if he's never learnt how to be young. He's kind of impertinent, and that makes Karin wonder if _she's_ getting old. Or if she's never been able to stand brats like him.

"… Karin." If he won't give her his family name, then neither will she. It's only courtesy.

"And what do you mean I've been _stalking_ you?" She's never seen him in… in this life of his.

"I've seen you around." He folds his arms and sticks his chubby tummy out. "Everywhere."

"You know kid; I think you've mixed it up. I'm not stalking you, _you're_ stalking _me._" Facts are facts, and that's what it sounds like to Karin.

"No!" He shakes his head, and splutters, face reddening once more. Apparently, he hasn't lost that ability. "No, I'm not!"

Karin bites back a grin. He totally _is._

So the silence lingers on.

And eventually, she grows bored of the stalemate, and she flicks his forehead, because it's bound to annoy him (and it does, Karin notes with glee), before she shrugs, sighs and turns away. (She can't memorize him any longer, this stranger who is and isn't Hitsugaya Toushirou.)

"See you around kid." She offers a lazy half-wave, before giving him one last grin. "Just remember, ice dragons are always the best."

(If she strains her ears, she would have heard him mutter _I… I knew that._)

* * *

But he chases after her, and a traitorous little part of her thinks that Toushirou wouldn't have done that.

So she stops, twists and sits down.

After all, they're still in the park, where lonely boys talk to ghosts, and ghosts don't care about the passer-by's.

That, and most people haven't seemed to notice that she's taken his ball and is lifting it out of his reach – thus it would be floating.

No one cares, and that's just fine with the two oddities.

"Do I know you?" He's torn, between remembering and forgetting (and one day he forgets he ever asked this question) and Karin wonders more than ever, if reincarnations ever remember, if they should remember, or she should just tell him about their life.

The meeting, the hand holding, the soft smiles and near kisses. To her, those days are as clear as yesterday. To him, he has no recollection.

But maybe it's better this way, and for now, she refrains from saying too much about his previous life.

Karin only grins, and shakes her head. Bounces the ball a bit more, still Ryuu (but she wants to call him Toushirou) can't grab it.

"Nah. Maybe in another life, perhaps. But not this one." Her smile must seem sad, because he gives her a hug.

And takes back what's his: that red ball that is rightfully his property.

Cheeky dragon.

Even does a little jig. He'll be breathing fire next.

She ruffles his sandy brown hair (it's still as soft as snow) and laughs good naturedly at his embarrassment appears as rage.

Karin says goodbye, and kisses his forehead.

* * *

"Will we meet again?"

"That depends." She flicks his nose, and at that, he says _ow._

But she speaks slowly and carefully, measuring the seconds like an hourglass.

"On what?" His blue eyes are big and wide, even as he rubs his red nose.

"If you'll remember me."

"Of… of course I will!"

"Even if you forget?" He doesn't hear that note of nostalgia, that note of sadness.

Doesn't realize who he is and isn't (and will never be again) and Karin knows it's better that way.

"Yes!" But he's strong and determined; he could be ten, twenty, thirty, or more, but Karin likes him as a kid, too naïve and too trusting; and Karin thinks that he didn't listen to her. "I'll remember, I'll remember!"

(It's beginning to sound like a promise, and Karin's uncertain about who she's really talking about, this lifetime, the last one, or the next.)

"Then we will. You can count on it." But she doesn't stop grinning, because his cute smile is very contagious.

They bump fists, because shaking hands is lame.

(And Karin wonders how long it will take for him to forget about this encounter.)

* * *

He isn't the man she loves.

Karin knows that.

But damn, it still hurts her heart.

* * *

"He was cute as a kid, wasn't he?" Karin asks, and Momo knows that she means before being a _shinigami_, when life was almost like a dream.

"Yeah." She smiles, and these memories don't make her ache so much these days. "He was the best."

* * *

It takes three days before Karin spontaneously combusts. And by that, she means getting smashed.

Momo has somehow arrived, supporting her and dragging her away, because she knows that tomorrow is both another day and something that Karin is going to hate. It's happened about three times, and each time, it's never good.

Stuck between not drunk enough and trying to avoid sobriety, Karin leans on Momo and murmurs what she's seen, voice only semi-slurred. At least, she thinks her voice is like that. She's definitely speaking, but her certainly on coherency is not quite as definite.

Karin hates getting drunk. Honestly.

It makes her head all fuzzy and she always throws up.

Just this once, Karin wants to forget.

And all she can remember from the night before is Momo asking, softly and carefully:

"How was he? Shirou-chan… Ryuu-san…?"

Karin doesn't know the answer, but thinks she said _he's okay._

Maybe that's for the best.

* * *

Karin is in absolute despair, and Momo loves being a sunshine about it.

Speaks loud, voice enunciated, it's only teasing.

But Karin hates her for it, if only because she knows it's a sure way to repel the alcohol from happening for a very long time.

* * *

Momo takes her time, hesitating between visiting 'Ryuu' and leaving him alone.

* * *

But she doesn't know what he looks like, only has a name and generic features and a town in which he could be anywhere.

She kills Hollows, and keeps a look out.

There are boys she meets that remind her of him, and boys who don't. Some see ghosts, others choose to ignore it. Some are reckless and some are calculating. Some are too stressed and some are too relaxed. Jerks, sweethearts, and all that's in between.

Momo wonders if Karin really met him, or if simply wanted to believe that she did.

* * *

She runs into him, by manner of shopping; both reaching for the same melon.

"Sorry." He says sheepishly. "It's all yours."

"No, you can have it. I'll get another one." Momo shakes her head and brushes back a loose lock of hair out of her eyes.

He's wearing school uniform, but it doesn't really compliment that pretty shade of eyes. Momo supposes that wasn't the point of the uniform, but there's nothing she can do.

"If you say so." He shrugs and places it in his shopping basket. It bounces, and the _shinigami_ can't help but giggle, even as the boy mumbles a curse beneath his breath.

She compresses her mouth, hoping to hide her smile; even if he's already heard her laughter.

"You come here often?" She tries to change the subject, and it's a perfectly valid question. She's been coming into this shop every day, and she's never seen him before.

"No. Kaa-san usually shops, but I offered, and so here I am. Luckily, I'm the one who knows how to find a good bargain, and so… as a result, I'm cooking for her. Especially because my girlfriend is coming round tonight, I've got to impress them both." He grins, and it's slightly crooked, but Momo finds that it suits him. There's an iPod in one ear, yet there's no sound. Perhaps it's just a ruse to get people to not talk to him.

"Well, good luck. I hope you know what you're doing." She offers a smile, and there's a sparkle in his eye that Momo has never noticed before.

"Yeah. You know, maybe… maybe she's the one." It's cheesy and sappy and he's already flushing and trying to pretend that he didn't say that, and Momo can only widen her smile.

"Well, you never know. She might be." She shrugs, and offers her hand. "I'm Momo."

"Ryuu."

"Dragons are cool." She nods, and those words slip out before she even has the chance to register what she's just said.

"But ice ones are the best." He smiles, and it makes his entire face glow. "I… I don't know why I said that. I feel like I know you, from somewhere."

"Oh, um. You must be mistaken." She shakes her head and draw back. "I must remind you of someone. But I'm not that person. Whoever she is."

* * *

And her smile freezes, and she knows he's _him_, and the similarities are freaking her out.

She wants to tell him—so many things: her sorrows and apologies and laughter and friendship and about Karin and about herself and how Seireitei is and that Matsumoto is the Tenth Taichou now and—

But she can't.

Because… he looks _happy_.

And she is simply clinging to the ghost that overshadows him, and he isn't even aware of it.

* * *

"… I saw him." Momo tells Karin, as they watch a shooting star explode into dust, hands behind her back, one leg over the other. "Ryuu."

"Yeah?" Karin's propped on her elbows, determined to look at the sky, but that doesn't stop her from being any less interested. "You're sure it's him?"

"I think so. It looked like him. And… it _felt_ like him, too." Quietly, she admits. "But still."

"He's different, right?" There's sombreness in Karin's tone, and Momo understands.

"Just enough." She fiddles with her hair, because it's true. He's different and they're the same and they're not moving on and he doesn't even know who they are.

"How… how did he seem to you?" Even more gently, Karin asks.

"Happy."

They have to settle for this.

* * *

They see him once more, feeling like spies on a secret mission.

He's older; maybe he's just about to start college. These days, they don't know, trying not to focus on him too much.

(They can never tell, days and years and seconds and minutes mingle and pass so easily in their eyes. One realm and another, they don't exactly live in harmony. Time, a concept, works differently for them. At least, that's how Karin sees it. Perhaps their life is too long and stretched out for human standards; and the human life is too short and rushed for their standards.)

There's a girl by his side, hands entwined, and his blue eyes are brighter than before.

Because he smiles, and it's pretty like snowdrops blooming to spring.

* * *

They don't mean to gatecrash his wedding, years later, it just sort of happened.

* * *

They save the day and crash land into his wedding by chance. Momo tends broken bonds, and Karin merely grits her teeth and copes.

It's sunny, and there's nothing quite like the blue sky in this city that would liven it up. Except there are people nearby, making a commotion and curiosity gets the best of them. (And nobody else notices, and Karin just laughs at that, Momo simply smiles. Crazy, wonderful people. _Shinigami_ can almost get away with anything.)

He looks handsome in a suit, even if he wasn't able to escape his frown. Although it isn't as prominent as it used to be.

(But then that was in another life.)

Perhaps he catches their eyes, and then, he looks away. Because he doesn't look back or find them until later.

And by that time, they're helping themselves to food.

… at Karin's insistence.

* * *

"… it's you." He narrows his eyes, hair darker than before, but eyes much lighter. "I… I know you. Both of you."

"Once." Karin smiles, head slightly downcast.

Momo adds. "We've met once before." It doesn't seem to help much.

"You've been stalking me." He's not ten and he _still_ believes that?

She lifts an eyebrow, amused. Debates between reminding him that it seemed quite the opposite, except now it didn't.

"We were just passing by. If you want us to leave, then please, tell us." But only if she gets to snack on a few things beforehand.

"How old are you?" Momo changes the subject, because she's never been one for stalemates.

And Karin grins. "I never _did_ know how old you were, even if you _were_ a midget back then…"

"I was _ten._" Ryuu flushes, still adorable, and it makes her smile. She can still see some naivety in him, and she hopes that he doesn't become disillusioned unless he ultimately has to. He deserves some innocence. "I'm _thirty_."

In her books, that still makes him a brat.

"Congratulations." She claps thrice, and only grins some more. "It's a good age. A good life, a good wedding – so live long and prosper." (She wonders if he knows the reference.) "Alright?"

"… sure." He looks confused. Momo doesn't get it either. Strange people, although she can kind of excuse Momo. "How old _are_ you_?_ You don't seem to have aged."

And Karin can't help but smirk. "Relatively young, compared to you. It's a perk, where I'm from. Not quite immortal, but it's close enough." She's exaggerating, but it's worth the expression on his face. "Some advice: immortality is always limited. Unlike what people believe… it won't last forever."

(Toushirou gave her that advice, and it's a funny sort of world they live in, now that she's repeating it to him.)

There's a time, there's a place.

But it isn't here.

"Well, we'd best be going." Momo says, placidly. She knows when it's time to go.

He reaches out, and both flinch. Only one hides it better than the other.

(Even if he isn't _him_, he is a constant reminder.)

"Is she… your wife… the same as before? Is she…?" Momo doesn't want to jinx it, and Karin makes a note that she'd better interrogate her friend about their encounter.

But for now, she tunes out.

* * *

He gives her this look, and Momo understands.

His wife is beautiful, but she doesn't care to know her name.

"I see. Well, best of luck then."

And now it really is time to go.

* * *

"_Did_ you know me?" Both know he's not talking about this life, present day.

She's curious at where he got _that _idea, she's made sure to keep infuriatingly vague about her life.

"Maybe." It doesn't matter any more. Karin supposes it never has. "And maybe not."

They won't meet again, in this life.

"But all the same, here's some advice: no matter what, keep breathing."

"And be happy." Momo is quick to include.

"Yeah, that's all we ghosts wanted to say to you." Karin turns to leave and does not turn back.

* * *

They stand outside, and the wing blows right through them. Standing in a park where only ghosts come to play.

"Who knows?" Karin puts her hands in her pockets and breaks a branch on the ground. "Maybe we'll meet again, right time, right place, right lifetime."

"Maybe." Momo sighs, looking up. "Karin, I don't think he'll ever remember us, or his previous life."

"I know." Her smile is soft and melancholic. "But I wouldn't want it any other way. He's happy, he's… alive."

"And us?" Momo quietly asks. "Are we?"

"Nah, we're dead. Thought you knew that. And you've been dead far longer than I have." It's a lopsided smile on her face, but it soon fades.

"That's not what I meant." She heaves a sigh, only mildly annoyed at the feigned ignorance. "We could try, you know. Being alive."

"… mm, I guess it doesn't sound so bad." Karin sits down, and Momo joins her, drinking in the summer air.

The wind plays with their hair and flutters a thousand leaves.

While they wait for the next life to happen, they might as well have some fun.

Time to let go.

… it's a start, Karin supposes, before she shuts her eyes, and exhales.


End file.
